


Beauty and the beast

by enjoyseries



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Florence - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjoyseries/pseuds/enjoyseries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Florence. What happens if they cross the line?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This is one of those usual nights; Hannibal is outside doing whatever he has to do and she's being on her own in their apartment. She usually reads books, drinks a glass - or three – of wine in front of the fireplace in this winter night. She'd never been bother by his nocturnal expeditions before, she has doubts about his activities to be honest, but tonight a sudden strong feeling of fear invades her body. She fears they're near the end. She fears that tomorrow all of this will be over. She fears that his games will be soon too much. And what does Bedelia Du Maurier when she's scared? She drinks. A lot. 

When Hannibal comes homes, it's around 1 a.m. He carefully closes the door, as Bedelia's probably already asleep. But suddenly, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen. He approaches the room slowly, and all of his predatory instinct blows away at the right moment he sees the blond air silhouette standing behind the bar. 

'Fuck.' She winces between her teeth. 

'Bedelia? Are you okay?' He calls her name so softly, and walks towards her. 

She doesn't have time to answer him; he's right in front of her observing the broken glasses on the floor and her bloody barefoot. He looks at the empty bottle on the counter and then at Bedelia. He knows she's drunk right now but he doesn't say a thing. He just comes closer and grabs her wrist. 

'Come with me.' He pulls her with him. 'Be careful.' And makes sure she doesn't walk on the broken glasses again. He guides her to the couch. He's surprised that she lets him take control, she would have said something against him in a normal situation, but yet he ignores it. 

He makes her sit, and leaves for a minute. When he comes back with the first aid kit, he finds her half lying on the couch. He sits next to her, grabs her injured foot and gently places it on his thigh. His fingers are light on her skin, his touch almost sensual. He examines her wound, not so deep but enough to bleed quite a lot. A sharp of glass probably nicked up all along her foot when he burst on the ground. Fortunately, he doesn't have to remove any pieces of glass from it. 

He feels her gaze on him; she's watching his face, his body and his moves. She doesn't even stir when he applies a cotton wool soaked in disinfectant on her wound. After cleaning it all up, he wraps her foot in a bandage and lets his fingers wandering a little longer on her soft skin. He turns his head towards her with his hands still on her foot. 

They exchange a look and she sits up, letting slid her foot down his leg still under his touch. One of his hands remains just below her knee. Hannibal swallows harshly; his throat gets dry as she places her hand on his thigh. 

'Thank you.' She whispers. Their faces are now at a few inches from each other. She doesn't know if it's the power of alcohol that makes her feel so fearless now – she guesses it is – but she lets her eyes lingering on his lips a few seconds, and that's enough for him to notice it. The tension has increased in a few minutes; they both know that if they cross the line, they might not be able to stop. They have never been that close since they're here, playing husband and wife. He never hid his attraction to her, she tried to hid hers but he could see behind the walls. They have always remained behind a line. 

She lets slid her hand which was on his thigh up his chest, feeling his muscles under her fingers. Her breathing becomes quicker and deeper as he starts feeling himself tight in his pants. He sees her coming closer, but he grabs her wrist to remove her hand from his chest at the last moment. 

'We shouldn't…' He whispers, he knows his tone isn't convincing. 'Your mind isn't clear.' 

'I know what I'm doing.' She whispers back. She seems honest, but he can smell alcohol. He knows she's lying and that she will regret it tomorrow morning. As badly as he wanted to cross the line, he couldn't abuse her. He gently removes her leg from his and gets up. She doesn't look sad or angry, just tired. He leans over, puts one of his arm behind her back and the other below her knees to carry her. She wraps her arms around his neck and nestles her head in the crook. He can feel her hot breathing against his skin. 

He arrives at her room, and carefully places her on the bed as she has fallen asleep on the way. He hesitates a moment before opening the zipper of her dress behind her back and slid it down her body. He tries to focus on something else to not stare at the beautiful sight in front of him. He lets her underwear on and put her properly before wrapping her with the cover. He looks at her one more time, put a strand of hair away from her face and leaves the room to join his own. 

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments! It feels good to be back on that road again. Here's the second chapter. I will try to post every day. Not a lot of things happen in this chapter (you know which things I'm talking about, hehe) but I promise the next chapter will be more interesting.  
> Sorry for the mistakes, I'm french...

**The next morning.**

Her head hurts like hell, she doesn't know what times it is but she guesses it's already quite late since the sun lights up the room now. A little too much for her liking, she can hardly open her eyes. Her mind is blurry, she knows she had drunk but can't remember all the previous night nor how she ended up in her bed… and in her underwear. She turns her head to look at the room; her dress is carefully laid on a chair. She throws the cover away and sits on the edge of the bed. She feels some kind of pain in her foot and takes a look to see it wrapped in a bandage. What the hell happened? She thinks.

Her head bangs louder and the room starts spinning. She closes her eyes for a moment to calm the dizziness and gets up to walk towards the bathroom not without discomfort due to her wound.  
She observes her reflection in the mirror; her hair is slightly messy but her curls are intact, her make-up of the previous day left some traces and dark circles are visible under her eyes. She turns on the tap and passes water on her face several times. After like seems dozen of minutes, she goes downstairs dressed in a simple silk dress and a dressing gown on top.

When she enters the kitchen Hannibal is at the counter cooking some breakfast. As soon as he sees her, he put a glass of water with an aspirin to the edge of the bar. She questions him with her eyes.

'I thought you might need it after last night.' He simply says. She doesn't answer him looking still unsettled and swallows it. He throws a look over the counter to see that her bandage's getting red just above the wound.

'You need a new one.' He says showing her foot with his look.

She lowers her head and sees it.

'I will change it.'

'Let me handle it, please.' He says while scrubbing his hands on the apron before taking it off. As a perfect gentleman, he guides her to the sofa having a feeling of déjà-vu.

As they both sit, he carefully removes the bandage to find a fresh wound but nothing worrying.

'Fortunately you didn't need stitches.' He says while cleaning it. She keeps silent for a moment before asking the question that has been torturing her mind since then.

'Hannibal, what happened last night?' He stops his moves a few seconds.

'I got home late last night and I heard a noise coming from the kitchen. I thought you were already asleep but then when I entered the room I saw you standing with broken glasses at your feet.' He takes a new bandage and starts wrapping her foot. 'I presume that's how you got hurt. Then, I took care of your wound.'

She observes him but his face was closed and unreadable. 'Is that all?' She still doesn't know how she ended up in her bed, almost naked.

'Actually…' He pauses. 'We almost kissed.' He removes her foot now that he has finished and gets up as he didn't say these three words. Her heartbeat speeds up and her face becomes pale, fear can almost be read on her traits.

'Did we…' She tries to speak, but her voice is weak and trembling.

'We didn't.' Her silence let him guess that she needs more than that as an explanation, so he continues. 'I stopped us before anything could happen. You weren't aware of your actions and I would have never dared taking advantage of such a situation.' He pauses again, finishing what he was doing before she came downstairs. 'So I carried you to your bedroom and as you fall asleep in my arms, I've taken the liberty to remove your dress thinking you'd probably be more comfortable that way.' She doesn't say anything, and doesn't know what to say either.

'Now if you may, diner is ready.' He slightly smiles and raised his head to look at her, feeling pleased with the effect that this conversation had on her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments! Made my day! :)   
> I know I said I would post every day, but I just have a lot of things to do (uni, at home, etc.) and I 've barely the time to write. I'm a bit late, sorry.  
> I hope this chapter will please you!

_**Palazzo Medici Riccardi, 8:30 p.m.** _

Their car has just stopped in front of the immense Palazzo Medici Riccardi, one of the most beautiful palaces of Florence. The gatekeeper opens the door; Hannibal comes out first, turns to the car and outstretches his hand to grab Bedelia's perfectly manicured hand. She gracefully goes out of the car, and they both head to the entrance as she slips her hand in the crook of his elbow. They received the invitation last weekend, a week after the previous event.

 

When they enter the reception hall, all eyes are on them. They walk in the crowd, both carrying a haughty smile. Hannibal knows that all men in this room would kill to be in his shoes, as for Bedelia who guesses -through the killers and envious looks- that any woman here would give her life to be her. There's no secret, they are the most glamorous couple of this evening by judging the others guests.

 

Hannibal wears a black tailored Armani suit, fitting perfectly his shoulders and muscles, white shirt and black tie. Bedelia wears a couture dress with a top adorned with gold diamonds and a long black train, low-cut along the leg. Her hair is tied up letting a few curly strands fall. They're both radiant and they know it.

 

A few moments later, a man of athletic stature and rather appealing approaches them with a glass of champagne in hand. Hannibal could already feel his possessiveness taking control of his whole body.

 

'Milady.' The man leans forwards, grabbing her hand to chastely kiss it. 'Would you do me the honor of a dance?' Bedelia launches a quick sidelong glance in Hannibal and feels him tense.

 

'Certainly.' She nods once, letting go of Hannibal's arm. The man, who's smiling hugely, tends his glass to him. Hannibal looks at him straight in the eye, forcing a smile before taking it. He watches them walk towards the middle of the dance floor where other couples were already dancing. As they start swinging around, the man pulls her closer making her feel a little bit uncomfortable.

 

'You're quite a beautiful woman. I couldn't do without asking you for a dance.' He tells her.

 

'Thank you.' She answers modestly.

 

'I hope your date didn't mind my interruption.'

 

'My husband is a very possessive man.' She slightly smiles and throws a look at the crowd but didn't find Hannibal. She can read the surprise on the man's face.

 

'Well, if I was your husband I wouldn't let any men approach you.' He says flirting.

 

The music ends and they stop dancing. Hannibal suddenly comes out of nowhere, causing them to jump slightly. 'If you may now, I'd like to get my wife back.' He says watching the man and offers his hand.

 

'It was a real pleasure to share this dance with you, Milady.' The man kisses Bedelia's hand a second time before giving it to Hannibal.

 

'My wife and I would love to have you for diner.' Hannibal smiles and Bedelia gets feeling nervous. The man looks at him incredulous.

 

'Of course.' He answers and nods his head to salute them before leaving. While another song begins, Hannibal catches Bedelia from the waist, lets slip his hand behind her middle back and stretches her arm with his. They stay silence for a few seconds, swinging around and both looking over the shoulder of the other.

 

'Feeling jealous, Hannibal?' She smiles as they both look at each other straight in the eye. He doesn't answer, just plunges his look into hers still smiling. 'I know what you're intending to do.' She says.

 

'Do you?' He asks, raising his eyebrows pretending to not understand. She lowers her eyes and then looks away, her smile slightly disappearing.

 

 

* * *

 

_**Later that night.** _

 

Bedelia is the first to enter their apartment, Hannibal following her right behind. They both walk to the living, he then serves two glasses of whiskey and hands one to her. They drink, looking at each other in silence.

 

'Such an interesting night.' He says.

 

'It was.' She agrees, places the glass on a piece of furniture behind her and rests one of her hand on the back of a leather armchair to remove her high heels. She appears much smaller and more fragile at the same time. Hannibal always loves this side of her. She then turns her back.

 

'Would you?' She asks, slightly tilting her head forward. He remains still for a few seconds before putting his glass next to hers. He comes closer, almost at a few inches from her. He lets his fingers wandering at the base of her neck. He then grips the zipper of her dress, and he gently takes it down. He can feel her shivering and she can feel his breath on her neck. As he arrives at the end of the zipper, he put his mouth just next to her ear.

 

'At least this man was right about one thing: you were magnificent tonight, the most beautiful woman of the _Palazzo_.' He whispers. She slowly turns to face him -her head is barely up to his shoulder- and grabs his tie. She pulls him closer to her, until their lips are almost touching each other.

 

'Goodnight, Hannibal.' She whispers against his lips before turning away to walk towards her master bedroom, swinging her hips and throwing a look over her shoulder, smiling. Hannibal could swear he felt her lips touching his.

 

_To be continued..._


End file.
